Playing my old guitar , Old days like dead stars, falling apart Memories hold me back, they’re trying to Steal my dreams away I’ve never seen such a lonely heart, making my six string Rot and stale. A broken guitar Broken from inside and outside I can hear the screams of pain that has…
Tag: fiction
The Crack Container
The yellow Volkswagen by the blue green sea has someone in the back— they’re fast asleep, dreaming of the Japanese order of things. The sea has a dark green ring where the horizon starts like the outer edge of the eyes and after the horizon, when it’s dark, like the pupil at the centre of…